


Growing Pains

by ipona



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 12:18:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11402274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ipona/pseuds/ipona
Summary: He wakes up with a pain in his legs.Short, day-in-the-life character study of Yuri.





	Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly just needed to make sense of Yuri's character to myself. We all know how it can be to be fifteen, and that's the feeling I wanted to convey. 
> 
> I enjoyed writing it, so up on AO3 it goes :)

He wakes up with a pain in his legs.

The cold autumn sun shines in through the window of his room. He lives with Lilia now, and so does Yakov, in a lush, luxurious apartment in St. Petersburg, not far from the rink. To say he misses his grandfather’s run down apartment in Moscow is an understatement. He misses everything, from the way the pipes squeak when you turn on the sink to full capacity, to the warm familiar scent that lingers there.

His cat jumps onto the covers, and stretches before curling up into a ball at his side. Yuri runs a hand over her back, the soft, white fur tickling his hand. As his swings his leg over the edge of the bed, the pain shoots through them again. He hates the pain, not because of the pain itself, but rather what it represents, the constant reminder that he's growing taller, that he's racing against his very own body in an effort to milk the last potential out of his youth, before having to adjust to adulthood.

Out in the kitchen, Lilia has made breakfast. Low in calories, low in fat, low in everything that makes food good. Yuri eats in silence together with his coach and his choreographer. There's a somewhat pressed atmosphere between the two and Yuri wonders when it's going to let up. He sighs and stretches his legs under the table.

"My legs hurt really bad today," Yuri tells them, and Yakov nods, understanding. He rises from where he sits, to go put a heating pad in the microwave. Yuri lets it lay across his thighs as he eats, the warmth from it burning against his skin. He accepts the pain, embraces it. Beauty is pain. Success is pain. After breakfast, Yakov sits him down on the couch and massages the muscles of his aching thighs with experienced hands.

"Feel better?" he asks, patting Yuri on the shoulder.

"Mm."

"Vitya was the same at your age," Yakov comments, and Yuri doesn't want to hear it, doesn't want to be reminded of Viktor and his betrayal. Viktor who is in Japan. Viktor who seems so happy on his social media. Viktor who should be here, helping him, not the other Yuuri.

Before they make way for the rink, Yuri goes to the bathroom. He splashes cold water onto his face, before meeting his own reflection. There's a new pimple erupting on his cheek, red and angry against his pale skin. Yuri tries to squeeze it, and only makes it worse. His hair is greasy, but there's no point in showering before going to the rink, so he settles for tying as much of his hair as he can into a messy little ponytail. 

At the rink, Mila's annoying face greets him. She's all smiles and it makes Yuri sick. Instead of engaging her with more than a grimace, he ties on his skates. Harder than necessary maybe, but Yuri doesn't care. He welcomes the dull ache as he skates in circles to warm up his muscles. Success is pain. It's like a mantra at this point.

The training session is a nightmare. His legs refuse to obey him, achy and weak as they are. After some effort, he has managed to run through the crucial parts of his free skate and though neither Lilia nor Yakov isn't fully happy with him yet, he makes his way to the locker rooms.

As he stretches, his muscles feel hard and stiff, and he keeps at it probably longer than necessary, stretching muscles he barely even knew he had. Or maybe it is necessary. His body is growing every day. Only in the last year, he's grown more than five centimeters, and he's not showing signs of slowing down anytime soon. His voice cracks and even on his good days, breakouts happen, marring soft, pale skin with angry, red marks.

And he's angry, always so angry. At Viktor, for forgetting about his promise. At Pork Cutlet Bowl, for being so pathetic and still winning Viktor. At Yakov and Lilia for not understanding him. At Mila and Georgi and Anya, and Yuri is sure he's forgetting someone in the lineup of people who makes his insides rage.

Mostly, he's angry at himself. For not being strong enough, fast enough, flexible enough. For not being good enough.

He looks in the mirror before getting into the shower. His limbs are long and lanky and somehow his head is still too big for his body. His ankles are bruised and swollen. His face is mottled with pimples. Just last week he bought his first own razor, to shave the peach fuzz on his chin.

It's not that he minds the changes, he decides, as he steps in under the warm shower, letting the water heat up his aching muscles. He doesn't. But it makes everything harder. Adults aren't as flexible and graceful as Yuri is, and every centimeter he grows takes him closer to the inevitable. Besides, existing in the no man's land between childhood and adulthood is tearing at his psyche. He's already supporting his family, and has been for the last few years. But he's not like Viktor yet, and that's all he really wants. 

He wants to go above and beyond everyone.

Crying in the shower is perfect if you don't want anyone to see, he decides. Frustrated, silent tears mix with the soapy water as Yuri washes his hair. When he turns off the shower and his tears have flowed down the drain, his head feels lighter and his back straighter.

On the way back, Yakov walks him through the training. Yuri rolls his eyes, until Lilia gives him a stern gaze. Today wasn't a good day, but everyone has bad days. He listens a bit more intently to Yakov's criticisms and proposals for solutions. They're going to work more on it tomorrow.

He walks a couple of meters behind Lilia and Yakov for the remainder of the way home. He puts his headphones in and the music drowns out all the sounds of the city. The sounds of Lilia and Yakov’s bickering. The sounds of his own hormonal mind. Instead, he loses himself in the tones of the heavy metal on his playlist. Fast guitars and screaming vocals. He promises himself that he's going to skate to one of these songs someday, instead of the classical music that turns him into the Russian Fairy instead of the Russian Punk.

Leaving Yakov and Lilia, Yuri decides to take a detour home. With music in his ears, drowning out the doubts and frustrations, he walks along the seaside. The white seagulls against the blue sky is a pretty sight and he snaps a picture for his Instagram before returning home.

It's not really home though. Home smells like piroshki and grandpa.

As he lays in bed that night, his thighs ache, his calves ache, and it's equal amounts due to hours on the ice and growing pains. Pain is weakness leaving the body. He read it on one of those motivational Instagram pages that no one can ever know that he follows. Beside him, the cat snores quietly, a small engine afire in its belly.

Yuri smiles. 

It's a new day tomorrow, and the pain will make him stronger.


End file.
